Gritty Crime Drama
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Jun 202010
Bertha
Jun 192010
In December 2009, I finished all my classes required for the A.A.S. in Accounting. At that time, all the job postings required “one to two years of experience.” I sent résumés out on the theory that a two-year degree could arguably fill that requirement.
These days, the job ads are asking for five or six years of experience, or a Master’s in Accounting.
I did a little research on the prerequisites for the Master’s in Accounting at my local university. Turns out I have all but one of the required classes to enroll in their program. So I’ve signed up to take that one class this fall.
Of course, pursuing a Master’s will cost tens of thousands of dollars, which we currently do not have, and I’m not sure if we should invest that kind of money when I still don’t know if it will lead to an income. But I figure it never hurts to expand my options.
And when I go to class this fall, I’m pasting this on the cover of my notebook:
Unemployed, But Working
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Jun 182010
Worst thing about being unemployed: No money.
Second worst: Feeling like I’m not contributing anything. I’ve often bitched to Alpha Geek that I feel useless.
“But you maintain the house, take care of the kids, pay the bills,” countered Alpha Geek. “That has enormous value—if you weren’t doing that, I couldn’t do what I do that brings us money.”
“But that’s stuff I always did, even when I was working. Now I’m not working and I feel useless.”
“Maybe you should volunteer somewhere.”
“I do volunteer somewhere. I help out at the homeless shelter two days a week.”
“Then you’re not useless.”
I started helping out at the homeless shelter around the beginning of the year. Many people were losing their homes, and it seems to have struck a nerve with me—there but for the grace of $DEITY go I, and all that sort of thing. We’ve got family, and friends who are like family, who could help us out if our financial situation tanked. Others didn’t have that safety net, and turned to shelters.
There are about a dozen shelters in Raleigh, with varying policies on who can stay for how long. Some are men-only, a few are women-only, and others are for anyone who needs them—as long as there’s room. Most of them work with churches and community groups to provide programs for getting residents out of the shelter and back into homes of their own.
I’m helping out at one of the oldest and largest shelters. Since it’s so well-established, it has a lot of services available in addition to beds and meals: a medical staff, a GED program, a child care center. Since the weather began heating up, the shelter has been providing big coolers of water just outside the door so people can come get a drink whenever they need one. Often while I’m helping out in the kitchen I’ll hear over the PA system: “Attention kitchen, the water coolers need to be refilled. Thank you!”
Some of the guys I work with are volunteers, like me, and others are shelter residents who want to work and be useful, like me. Unless they tell me, I don’t know which. They’re all great people to work with, and seem genuinely glad to have me helping out.
If I can’t work for money, I’ll work for free, dammit.